


The War

by Ky_Bentley



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Alex is a mad boy, Bless Christopher Nolan for making this film, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dunkirk, F/M, Finally after 2 years of watching this movie again I needed a fic, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Leigh is a sweetie, Luna is a protective bean, People on Fire, Tommy is a sad boy, War, World War II, but with my own original characters because the boys need love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 08:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17556485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ky_Bentley/pseuds/Ky_Bentley
Summary: In May 1940, Germany advanced into France, trapping Allied troops on the beaches of Dunkirk. Under air and ground cover from British and French forces, troops were slowly and methodically evacuated from the beach using every serviceable naval and civilian vessel that could be found. They couldn't make it home, so home came for them.





	1. PART 1

**Author's Note:**

> "Here stands a man at the bottom of a hole he's made, still sweating from the rush. His body tense, his hands they shake, oh this, this is the mad boy. Here stands a man with a bullet in his clenched right hand. Don't push in son for he's got the power to crush these lands, oh here, hear him cry boy." — The War by SYML

**THE MOLE & DESTROYER**

 

The atmosphere was almost hardening on the environment as it was for the people who were caught in the middle of crossfire and the shaking of the ground that was caused by near off bombs that hit the cobblestone of Dunkirk's streets. The French community was being destroyed by the German soldiers that was trying to take out every single man that dared to roam across the domain to fight and fend. They had recently fired at a band of British soldiers, one escaping with an inch of his life and being sent off towards the beach to await to board a boat to retreat. His name Tommy, only nineteen, and was already going to have the rest of his life bombarded with what he had experienced. 

On the beach, it looked quite peaceful and calming to see tons and thousands of men all silently waiting in lines for ships and boats to take them on out in the waters to evacuate; some of the lines ran out onto docks. It was one of the biggest beaches that he had ever seen with the sunlight peeking through the clouds and glistening off the ocean water. Suddenly, Tommy’s stomach began cramping like how it did in the alleyway before the German began raining bullets on his group. He needed to use loo, and desperately.

Tommy wanders off to the side where the sand dunes where, his fingers feverishly dancing upon his belt, undoing it. He finds a spot, pulling down his trousers and squats but is taken back once he realizes that he’s not alone. Over onto his right, there was another soldier who had his shirt undone, sweating with the labour of digging in the sand and Tommy automatically knew what he was doing. He was burying a fallen soldier who must’ve been his friend. The man glances up, spotting Tommy but doesn’t stop with his burial; he just continues on. 

Once Tommy’s finished, pulling up his trousers and doing his belt, he starts on over to the boy who was around his age—maybe a year older—and helped cover the jutting foot from under the sand. As he does this, his green hazel eyes spot the tags that hung around the man’s neck, reading the name  _ Gibson _ . Tommy then wanders his eyes down, seeing how Gibson began fixing his shoe, tying up his laces tight. Gibson felt his eyes on him, returning the stare and Tommy just gives off a shrug before noticing the water canteen that was next to the lad. He points to it, wondering if he’d help spare some water to drink and Gibson hands it on over graciously. 

Tommy undoes the cap, bringing the rim up to his lips, tipping back his head and drank down the sweet delicious liquid that felt like it was cleansing him from the inside out. A few drops trickle down but he captures them with his hand, giving the can back to Gibson and licks his hand clean. He then stands, readying himself as he began his journey back to the beach while Gibson fixed his shirt by buttoning it back into place and even fixing his pants. 

Out in the water, there was Destroyers—fast, maneuverable long-endurance warships that were intended to escort larger vessels in a fleet—but they were far off in the distance, out of reach for the many men who still waited for their chance to go home by standing in the ocean that was raised up to their chests. 

Tommy joins one long snaking line, standing there for no more than five seconds until the soldier that stood in front of him spots him, his demeanor being unwelcoming. He speaks, saying, “It’s Grenadiers, mate.” 

Upon hearing this, Tommy softly moves off in search of another line since he wasn’t apart of the Infantry. His eyes gaze to see other lines, all of them long, winding, and nonmoving at the unattainable ships. It was futile to wait, he knew. 

Tommy turns his attention towards a group of men that was up on the left, a line of stretcher-bearers going past, carrying wounded men along the beach towards the harbour. His eyes follow along to where they were heading, Tommy landing his peers on the long, narrow breakwater extending out into the sea. It was called the Mole. It was packed with soldiers and at the end of it, there awaited a hospital ship. 

With a huff, his eyes strain away, spotting a soldier that was standing in front of a shorter one, fixing their helmet and attempted to tighten the belt under their chin to fit snug. The hat kept tipping one way and the next, the shorter soldier trying to fix it upon their head and urgently wanders their eyes to see if anyone was paying attention. They finally make contact with Tommy, pausing for a brief moment until the sky came to life with the sound of a distant aircraft. 

Soldiers begin staring up in the sky, searching for the flying machinery as one man shouts, “Dive bombers!” 

Tommy spots the distinctive kinked wings of the notorious Stuka dive bomber, its nightmarish howl rising as it picks up speed, diving directly for the beach that they all stood on. The men instantly back away, scattering themselves to the dunes, burrowing down in the sand while others armed themselves with their guns and tried to fire up at the planes. 

The first line of bombs drop down, lifting sand into the air with bursts of explosions. The stretcher-bearers put down their loads, lying across the wounded, protecting them as the area was being hammered ferociously. The Stuka pulls out of its dive, revealing two more Stukas diving right in line, dropping their bombs right onto the beach as well. 

Tommy covered his ears, laying on his stomach and nuzzled his face right down into the sand as nine more explosions sounded off, the last one being only a few yards away from him, spraying sand up into the air and raining down on him. Once it’s quiet, he slowly raises his head, seeing the other soldier gets back up onto their feet; all of them casually getting back in line. It was a remarkable sight. These men were so used to war, to bombings, that a sudden inbound like that was like holding a candle light to a flame. It didn’t make much of a difference. 

Dusting his clothes off, ridding himself of sand as he stood back up, Tommy glances back over in the direction where he had last seen the two soldiers standing before the plans came in. The shorter one’s helmet had fell off from not suiting their head properly, revealing long wavy brown hair that moved as against the gust of blew that went right traveling through. The soldier begins looking for their hat in a hurry, scrambling over and grabs it hastily, placing it over their head and peers up to see that Tommy was staring at them once again. From that moment, he finally recognized why the soldier was hurrying fast. It was a young woman, just around his age of nineteen, trying to tuck in the ends of her hair back into her British uniform and using the helmet to cover the top of her head. 

The soldier that was helping her before finds her, getting her up, checking to see if she was alright and begins fixing their collar in an abnormal fashion. Tommy watches, seeing that they were tucking away their hair as well.  _ Another young woman. _ Maybe a year older than him and the other girl that she was seemingly looking after. 

Tommy was astonished by the sight of the ladies. He—out of his time being in Dunkirk—had never seen female soldiers; never even knew that they would’ve been able to be in battle. He knew nurses and support staff being the only womanly duties, but the two girls certainly weren’t either of those things. They wore the men’s military suits, helmets, had their own belongings in packs, and dog tags that displayed their names, hanging around their necks. 

“Where’s the bloody Air Force?!” One man shouts in distress. 

The girls shuffle, running and making way over and after the stretcher-bearers. Tommy watches, seeing how they effortlessly blended in, helping out with the men and they just allowed them. That gave him an idea as well. Once they were further down, he headed on up and began inspecting the several patients on stretchers that they left behind. Majority were already dead except for one who still groaned. From behind, there was another noise and Tommy looked, spotting Gibson who was putting on his coat in a hurry. Without anything needing to be said, Tommy took off his long coat and backpack, laying it in the sand and hoisted up the top of the stretcher while Gibson got the bottom. Off they went, hustling it towards the Mole. 

The girls held onto either side of the stretcher, stepping up onto the eight foot wide concrete Mole, both of their heads turned down to avoid any of the men noticing their feminine facial features. Up ahead, they heard the one Warrant Officer, telling the French soldiers that they weren’t allowed to board due to the ship being for the English only. He then spotted them, the  stretcher-bearers, telling the French to make way and they do, watching them pass through with little to no trouble. 

“Along the mole. All the way, she’s leaving—” as on cue, the ship blows its horn, signaling that it’s going to take off soon. “That’s it.” He eyes the ship for a second before focusing back on the bearers and the French that began crowding again. “MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY!” He orders. 

They make it through, heading up to the first ship, the men up front get on the gangplank and onto the deck of the ship, supervised by a Petty Officer. He checks his watch, then looks along the Mole at the remaining stretchers including the one that the girls had held. While they waited for them to be directed on, two bombs went off in the water, their ears ringing and the pulse of the shock running up and through their feet. 

The first ship is loaded, no more room was left and with that, they removed the gangplank from the dock and the short girl felt herself getting worried but not for her, for her best friend. Her state of mind at that particular moment was to get her friend, Luna, out of Dunkirk safe and sound. 

The Petty Officer checked the other boat that was still docked, seeing that there was little space and nodded to the girls to go and load up the stretcher. Luna took the offer, moving quick as she led first, rotating the stretcher around and stepped up onto the gangplank, going down to board the ship. The short one followed behind but froze as another bomb was dropped, landing in the water and spraying up the salty liquid on the one side of the boat. The bell began ringing violently, warning that the boat needed to take off and they continued on. From behind, she felt steps going after her and she gently glanced over her shoulder, seeing the boy from the beach that kept his eye on her. His darken hair was being blown every which way from the harsh wind, light hazy green eyes where squinted yet big as they took in the sight of her. She dared not stare at him any longer, afraid he’d turn her in, and presses onwards. 

Tommy and Gibson go in pursuit, following after the girls, heading down onto the boat and Orderlies trekking right on over, taking the stretchers from the soldiers. Luna immediately follows, still playing the role of a concerned stretcher-bearer while the other stayed back to try and catch her breath like how Tommy and Gibson began doing. 

There was a moment of peace, of relief, until an Able Seaman that was manning the gangplank calls over. “You three, get a shift on!”

The girl opens her mouth to speak in a defence but pauses, knowing that she couldn’t speak because if she had, it’d be revealed that she was, in fact, a girl. Defeated, and at least grateful that Luna would be getting out before her, she goes after Gibson while Tommy stayed directly behind. He slowly moved, eyes lingering on the backs of Gibson and the girl before a Lieutenant shouted. “Off you three! Back up the line!” Tommy reluctantly follows the order, starting up the plank after the two soldiers. 

At the top of the gangplank, when the officers weren’t minding, Gibson tapped the girl, sneaking off and down in the crisscross structure below the Mole where they wouldn’t be seen by the officers on top. She nods following after and Tommy witnesses this, seeing that Gibson was already waiting for him to blend in with. Tommy goes quick, climbing down the side ladder, and slipping in besides the girl. The three of them settle in the beams, just above the waterline and waited. 

During the long wait, the three could hear the one Commander and Lieutenant speaking with one another and they stayed still, listening in to the conversation. 

“Colonel, you’re going to have to decide how many more wounded to evacuate . . . one stretcher takes the space of seven standing men.” 

A Launch approaches, docking down below causing Gibson, the girl, and Tommy to crouch behind the thick, white wooden beams, watching how one man stepped off and climbed the one ladder to speak with the men above them. He was the Rear Admiral. 

“At ease, Colonel. How’s the perimeter?”

“Shrinking ever day. But between our rearguard and the French . . . we’re holding the line. And the enemy tanks I’ve stopped.”

“Why?”

“Waste precious tanks, when you can pick us off from the air, like fish in a barrel?” The one man replies back. 

“How long does London expect the army to hold out before we make terms?”

“Make terms? They’re not stopping here. We need to get our army back.” A pause. “Britain’s next. Then the world.”

“Christ, you can almost see it from here . . .”

“What?”

“Home.” He remarks. “What about the French?”

“Publicly, Churchill’s told them bras dessous. Arm in arm. Leaving together.”

“And privately?”

“We need our army back.”

“How many men are they talking about?”

“Churchill wants thirty thousand. Ramsay’s hoping we can give him forty-five.” 

There was more silence that followed and it was because up top, Commander Bolton looks out at the mass of humanity of men that still needed to board ships. The men that were on and off the Mole and on the Beach. “There are four hundred thousand men on this beach, sir.”

Down below, Tommy takes this in.  _ Every man for himself. _ That was the truth of what they were saying. It was now more of a survival game than anything. His eyes flicker to Gibson and the girl, seeing how they both looked wounded; broken. 

“We’ll just have to do our best.”

Bolton straightens up. “Right, this Mole stays open at all costs.” He then points at the funnel and masts of sunken ships. “We’re in range of artillery from the west—anything else sinks out here, the Mole’s blocked and we’re stuffed.”

“Can’t we load from the beaches?” The Rear Admiral asks.

“Better than standing out here when the dive bombers come.”

“It’s impossible.” Bolton states.

The Rear Admiral looks at the lines of men on the beaches. “Too shallow?” He questions as to why it was impossible.

“Anything drafting more than three feet can’t get near. We don’t have enough small boats to ferry men out to the Destroyers.”

The Rear Admiral nods. “The Mole it is, gentlemen.”

He then exists, leaving to retreat back onto his Launch. The engine starts, the boat traveling off into the open sea before the familiar, dreaded sound of stirs. Stukas. Every man on the Mole began lifting chins to the sky, knowing that they trapped and exposed. There was no place to go, they could only hunker down and hope for the best. The awful whine builds, the soldiers being anxious as they ducked, the bombers going into their dive. 

_ Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! _ The bombs explode into the sea all right by the pier, chunks of the wood railing being blown off from the close proximity. 

One detonates right by the hospital ship, being a direct hit which made the thing go up in a cloud of flames while another is dropped, landing in the water and exploding. Water splashes up on Gibson, Tommy, and the girl as they tried to protect themselves but the girl’s foot slips, causing her to let out a short exclaim but Tommy hurries to grab her with Gibson’s help. They hoist her back, pulling her in behind the beams as six more bombs go off, deafening everyone with the thunderous roars. Gunfire then came, laying out a huge group of men on the Mole while other Stukas continued dropping the bombs near the ship. 

“She’s going down!” 

Commander Bolton eyes the men who was manning the lines in a hurry. “Cut her loose!” 

“What about the wounded?” A Sub-Lieutenant ponders, hand on his hat as the Stukas left the area. 

“Cut her loose, and push her off! We can’t let her sink at the Mole!” 

Men on the ship began jumping off the sides, the ship burning and already sinking from the destruction that was just laid upon it. The bow was ablaze, leaving the girl in shock as she watched, hoping at her friend was lucky enough to have gotten out in time and survived. 

Her eyes scanned the water, seeing her friend trying to swim over to the section of the beam that was a few feet away from where she and the boys stood. She began her climb, weaseling through the support beams and making it down on the lower level where her friend was and reached for her hand in desperation. Luna grabs her wrist and she pulls her against the current that was making it hard for her to go against and laid her on the side as she noticed the boys coming on over to help with a few men as well. 

The ship began moving close to the dock area, the steel hull about to squish one young man that was desperately trying to get himself out from being crushed and Tommy grabs him by the shoulders and yanks with all his might, pulling him clear just as the hull grinds against the wood. Tommy looks down on the breathless, wet soldier, seeing his tag that read  _ Alex _ . The wet soldier focuses on Tommy, giving a nod of gratitude. They then all focus on the ship that moved backwards, slowly drifting away and began sinking all on its own. More men jumped off into the water, swimming towards where the five of them were stationed for the time being. Gibson, Tommy, and the other girl began helping out with the other men, getting them on the structure so they began have a breather. 

Luna stayed behind her friend, taking off her hat for a moment to adjust it, but not before she saw how the other soldier, Alex, was resting was staring at her. When he met Luna's gaze he almost had to do a double take. Her tie that encaptured her locks had came loose while wading through the water, the brown hair spilling out around her shoulders with loose strands framing the oval shape of her face. She was a pretty sight for his sore eyes and he could spend the rest of the night looking at her if there was no immediate threat of being killed by the enemy.

From above, Commander Bolton peers down, noticing all the soldiers and speaks. “Right, Highlanders. Let’s find you another ship.” 

The wet soldiers pull themselves to their feet, starting to climb up the ladder and the Tommy had his idea, slipping into the water to drench himself to make it seem like he jumped overboard. The girl and Gibson do the same while the Alex watched with a laughing grin. He gets up with Luna, helping the champs and began the climb up to the Mole where Bolton’s men began shepherding them onto a Launch. Tommy, Gibson, and the girl kept their heads down while Luna stayed directly next to her friend and Alex walked besides Tommy. But once they boarded the Launch, with the engine starting, driving away from the Mole, and the sun was falling down below the horizon, they all lifted up their stares in relief. 

Out in the harbour, they spot the Destroyer with its sheer iron side towering above the Launch, as it bobs up and down alongside. They draw closer, noticing that cargo nets were dropped over the side, and the men start to step up onto the rail of the Launch, waiting for the rhythmic movement to calm down before, grabbing at the rope mesh, struggling to pull themselves up. A few of the others began trying to help them, pressing up on their backs so they can get up properly and board the ship. Gibson makes room, offering the young girl to go ahead of him and she nods, grabbing onto the rope, beginning her climb and he helped her from behind to get up. 

On her left, she seen how Tommy steps up to the railing, next to an exhausted soldier who can barely lift himself up. Tommy helps to stabilize him before they both grab at the net; Tommy climbs effortlessly but the exhausted man slips over as the gap between the Launch and the Destroyer closes, crushing his legs. He screams and hands pull him up as the gap opens up again.

Gibson taps the girls boot and she remembers that she was in the middle of the net, blocking the other soldiers at being able to get boarded and continued the rest of the way after Tommy. 

Once she reached the top, Tommy grabbed for her arm, helping her up and even fixed her hat, making sure that her secret just stayed between him and her, as well as her friend. They both rotate around, seeing Luna, Gibson, and lastly Alex getting up on board. Once the five of them were alright, they started off in line where the other men were being taken to a doorway at the head of the stairs down below. 

A nurse stands there, handing out life vests and blankets to everyone as they passed. “Come on, boys. There’s a nice cup of tea for you down there. This way, come on.” She ushers them on down below deck. The woman gives Tommy one, gently pressing on his back for him to head down and then eyes the girl, seeing her face as she went to grab for another and softly froze. The older lady frowned, eyeing the poor young girl who had a small cut on her cheekbone and continued to hand over the life vest as well as a blanket. “Here you go, love.” She chimes. 

She gives a nod, carefully placing the life vest over her helmet and suited it to her body before grabbing the fabric, heading down below. The Nurse then sees the same predicament with Luna, handing her the items, and continued on with the others. Behind, Gibson ignored going in down below, wandering off down a set of stairs and Alex noticed this act before he, himself, headed down below into the crowded pit of soldiers. 

Tommy, the smaller girl, Luna, and Alex rummaged through the bodies, passing by the men who were eating jammed bread and Alex leaned in, grabbing a piece for him and Luna, eating automatically. Luna receives hers instantly popping the sweet, rich tasting strawberry jam and the white flaky loaf with her tongue. It was heavenly. She hadn’t have eaten something so delicious in days, if it hadn’t been for that moment, she could’ve almost sworn that she would’ve forgotten the delight of having bread with a spread of homemade jam on top. 

Up in front of their line, Tommy spotted an opening at a table where a pile of bread was, reaching in and grabbed himself a slice of the jammed loaf and the girl does the same, eating it hungrily. She was starving the most; over the last days, she gave a majority of her food rations to Luna, caring for her the most.

They all halt, standing in place to chew and Alex grabbed another piece of bread, stuffing his cheeks like a chipmunk and searched the room for any sight of Gibson. With not seeing him, he glances to Tommy and the other girl, motioning towards the stairs. “What’s wrong with your friend?”

Tommy lifts his gaze up, watching as the door to the hold closes. He then looks around the hold, packed like the tube at rush hour and he takes another bite of his bread. He was uneasy. “Looking for a quick way out.” He replies and Alex nods understandingly. “In case we go down.” He adds.

Alex instantly looks at him, pausing with his chewing and he too, begins scoping out the hold.

Luna eyes the one girl, furrowing her brow as she seemed to be in an state of calmness. Before she could ask her friend what was wrong, the girl began edging through the crowd towards the stairs that they entered from, wanting to be close to the door incase there had to be an emergency evacuation. Luna, Tommy, and Alex go after. 

During the walk, Tommy places on his life vest, finishing up the last bit bread that he had. Alex strolled by a few nurses that was handing out cups of tea, grabbing four and handed them out to the small group of them. Tommy took sips with Luna while Alex and the other girl gulped theirs down in pure, unquenchable thirst. The girl finished before Alex, drops of tea spilling down onto her chin but she licks the beads of sweetness away then wipes it off with the back of her hand. Tommy catches her tags, tenderly tilting his head to try and read whatever her name was but got sidetracked whenever they heard the engine start up. The ship began moving forwards, causing all the men to cheer happily at their respects of heading home from war. 

The men began grabbing at more food and drinks, wearing smiles and it just all seemed a little too good to be true. From the girl’s previous life, and how she lived, she knew that good things can always be gone in a matter of seconds. That’s why she wanted to be close to the door; why she wanted to have a quick escape. 

Right on cue, the cheering stops. _ Boooooms _ shudder the suddenly fragile iron walls of the hold, massive percussions of wobbling metal sheets. The blast moves every bolt of the Destroyer, all of them flying off the walls with a eruption of water busting in. All those who were standing had been thrown off their feet and onto the floor, clashing into objects and other human beings as the water level raised faster than they could react. It had been a torpedo that shell shocked them, sending them directly into disaster; into the darkness. 

Men were yelling under the water, arms flailing as a few were caught on objects, using up their breaths by reacting wildly. The girl felt her helmet lifting off from her head but tightened the strap harder from under her chin, and peered through the foggy water. She spotted the silhouette of the door, swimming towards it with all her might as the ship began tipping onto its side; where it been hit. She feels a person grabbing onto her boot, glancing back to see Luna that was directly with her, holding on since she wasn’t a very good swimmer. She continues on, reaching to the wheel and tried to turn it but the door was locked from the outside. She forms a fist, pounding on the door repeatedly, remembering how the one lad said that his friend outside of the door. Internally, she was begging for him to have no abandon ship and to still be out there, somewhere, hearing her bangings. She continued on, the side of her hand hurting but she powered through, determined to be free. The air in her lungs began running out, her chest tightening because she needed to breathe and it only made her hit the door even more with force.  

Her arm moves back, ready to hit once again but the door opens, letting in light through the darkness and seeing Gibson’s rippled face since she was still under the water. His arm reaches down, grabbing her wrist and pulls her up and out. She gasps for air, coughing and Luna heads up right after, doing the exact same. She looks to Gibson, seeing him instantly climbing off and slipping down into the dark water that looked to be black since it was night time and no sun was out. 

Luna makes a small whirring noise and the girl eyes her. “They’re still down there.” She knew her friend was speaking about the boys and she nods for her to go while she held the metal door back so it wouldn’t close on her. 

Luna dove back down in, going to retrieve the boys while the girl waited, peering over and down in as she tried to focus on her heavy breathing. A few seconds passed and within that time, a section of the ship exploded into flames, making the girl jolt from the loud noise, burrowing her head down and tried to shelter her ears with her shoulders. Her fingers were growing weak, right hand aching from her repeated hitting, but still kept the door open as she waited. 

Finally, Tommy swims to the surface, breathing heavily and lugs himself on out with Alex following after with Luna. The girl releases the door, making sure it’d stay open for other soldiers to get out and slid off the boat like how Gibson did. They began swimming through the water, kicking their feet and working their arms as they spotted nearby boats. Tommy was up in front, seeing that Gibson was in one of the boats, holding his hand out to him. Once he tried to lift himself up with Gibson help, few of the men began batting at their hands, shoving Tommy’s off. 

“Piss off—it’s too crowded!” 

Alex goes up besides Tommy, grabbing at the rail as well. “You can’t leave us! Make some room.”

“You men, leave off. You’ll capsize the boat—it’s gone over twice on the way out here . . .” The captain of the boat remarks. “You have to stay calm. There are plenty of boats.”

“Calm?!” Alex gapes at the man. “Wait till you get torpedoed, then tell us to be calm!”

He lightly frowns, eyeing the four in the water. “You have life jackets?”

“Yeah, they do.” A soldier on the boat states, inspecting them.

The Captain nods. “Don’t panic, the water’s not too rough, or too cold. We’re heading back to the beach—”

“Fuck off! Let’s go to Dover!” A man shouts at him.

Several voices join in, all clamouring and mashing together as one. 

The Captain sighs. “We can’t make it across the Channel on this, lads. We need to get back to the beach and wait for another ride.” He then gestures to where the beach that they just left. “It’s not even half a mile. You men in the water float here, save your strength, we’ll come back for you.”

The men in the boat start rowing and Tommy spots Gibson again, watching as he quietly drops a rope that was attached to the stern into the black water. Tommy hurries, taking it, hands part of it to Alex, Luna, and the girl. They start getting dragged behind the boat as it rows back to the shore of Dunkirk. The men in the rear notice, but nobody says anything, if it were them, they’d be doing the same thing. 

Luna glances back at the sinking ship, seeing the carnage and dead floating bodies that were surrounding them. Tears threaten to escape her eyes but she hold them back, clearing her mind and took in a deep breath. This was no place for tears; for crying.

 


	2. PART 2

**THE WAY BACK**

 

As the dawn breaks, the small, packed boat pulls across the calm water to the vast, packed beach at Dunkirk. Gibson, Alex, Tommy, Luna, and the other girl sluggishly dragged their feet across the sand before they all came toppling down from their extreme fatigue. Tommy settled on his back, spreading out to try and take in the warmth of the sun. The one girl got down besides him doing the same as she took off her helmet, not even caring if someone had seen her. Her long hair was still tucked in the back of her shirt and with it being slick from the water, it gave her the illusion of appearing as boy from down where she laid. Gibson passed out right besides her, sleeping on his side and resting his head on the wet sand. Then behind him, Luna and Alex flopped onto their stomach, snoozing away and covering their faces.

Further down the beach, Colonel Winnant walks, surveying the area. He approaches a group of Engineers driving trucks onto the sand, stopping them all in a line and taking the air out of their tires; laying duckboards on top. One Engineer takes notice of the Colonel, saluting him and walks straight up to him. “A pier. When the water comes back in. Tide’s turning, now.” He remarks brightly.

Colonel Winnant looks out at the churning water. “How can you tell?”

Quietly, the Engineer responds with, “The bodies come back.”

With that statement, Colonel Winnant looks back out at the water, seeing men in line, chest deep, gently pushing floating bodies aside as they wash in and around them.

It must’ve been at least three hours of sleep at the max but Gibson, Alex, Luna, and Tommy awoke, feeling still tired but their bodies knew that they had to be up and alert in case something was to happen. Tommy peered over at the one sleeping girl, noticing her tags, and casually leaned over to read her name. It had been on his mind for a long while.

Finally, he gets his answer. It read, _Leigh._ He couldn’t help but find it ironic how lucky she was that her name was unisex. He wondered how she became a soldier and what she was doing there in Dunkirk with the men. What she and her friend, Luna, were both doing there.

Tommy just looked her over, seeing how peaceful she looked cuddled up on the cold, windy beach and damp sand. She stays like that for a few more minutes then awakes, her eyelids still heavy from the lack of desperate sleep she needed. She sees how Tommy is staring at her and gradually, she reclines her upper half up and rests her elbows on her knees as she stared out at small groups of soldiers. They were attempting to climb onto small rowing boats but they were being swamped and overturned in the surf. Overcrowded boats are grounded on the sand, and soldiers give up their places; some heading back out of the surf. Some wading in past the break on the intention of never returning, drowning themselves in fear of never returning home and being captured by the Germans. Leigh pulls her attention away, not being able to watch.

She focuses over on Luna and the boy Alex, seeing how the two of them were softly speaking with one another about something before getting up. Alex departed, mentioning of having to use the loo and went to the dunes. Luna hauls herself up, stretching while she eyed the seafoam that was surrounding them. Her dark brown eyes linger, noticing that Leigh has her helmet off. She instantly got concerned, running over and placed the hat back onto her head, fixing it.

Tommy got up, searching for anything for them to drink and eventually found a huge tin of vegetables while Alex got back, relaxing on the shore. He sits down, banging on the tin with a rock, waiting for it to break and once it springs a leak, he lifts up the can to his lips, sucking the juice. Gibson holds out his hand for some. Tommy keeps sucking for a beat or two, then hands it over to him while watching the Vanquisher loading up troops from the vast crowd that lined the Mole.

Gibson finishes his turn of the drink, glancing to the girls and held it out to them. Luna declines by shaking her head but Leigh grabs for it, lifting the tin to her mouth and drank. Her bottom lip moves up, suctioning onto the one side where the can broke and from that, a metal ridge cuts it with a small prick. Leigh backs away, wincing and hands the vegetable tin back to Gibson. Tommy, absentmindedly, reached forwards and gently stroked the corner of her lip where her lip was bleeding with his thumb.

Luna watched, grinning from ear to ear and turn to see Alex opening his eyes and sitting up. His light green eyes go to Luna, seeing her smirk and wondered what she was so smug about. She then gently nods over in the direction of Tommy and Leigh for him to look. When he does, he sees how the two of them had gotten close in their short amount of time of knowing one another and that gave him the same look that Luna wore upon her lips.

“Reckon’ that’d be us?” He says cheekily.

The heat in Luna’s cheeks rise, turning them pink. “Maybe, when we get home and all of this is over.”

Alex’s heart raced, her English accent bringing him joy in this time of chaos, famine, and misery that went hand in hand with war. His gaze trailed off, spotting some Highlanders walking past, away from Dunkirk in a loose formation. It was his regimental comrades.

“Hey!” He remarks, picking himself up and began trotting towards the group and Luna automatically followed while Tommy, Gibson, and Leigh just watched. “Highlanders!”

The three glanced to one another, getting their feet underneath them, and followed.

“Hey! Highlanders!” Alex repeats as they drew nearer. “What’s that way?”

One of the men points. “A boat.” Alex follows his gesture to a fishing Trawler with a blue cabin, listing in the shallows a mile up the beach.

He was taken back. “She’s grounded.”

“Not when the tide comes in, she isn’t.” Another responds.

Alex looks to Luna first, wanting her thought on the idea and once she gives him a nod of wanting to go, he turns to face the other three. They all seemed alright with the idea and from that, they followed the Highlanders towards the boat. On the way, there was explosions in the back, making Leigh flinch and turn, pausing in her walking to watch black billowing smoke lifting high up into the air.

Back at the Mole, stretchers of French troops are brought down. A Private comes out of the crowd, breathless, finding Colonel Winnant. He gives him a nod. “The French’ve been forced back on the western side, sir.”

Colonel Winnant glances over at the explosions that were taken place at warehouses. “But they’re still holding perimeter?”

“For now.”

Colonel Winnant pushes on through, determine to find Bolton to speak with him. He passes by wounded soldiers who were waiting, slumped over, and looking exhausted from everything that had been happening.

Finally, he finds Bolton, gazing out to the harbour and seen no ships. He was at a lost for words. “Where’re the destroyers?”

“There’ll be one soon.”

He takes a double look at him, scoffing. “One?”

Commander Bolton shakes his head up and down. “After yesterday’s losses, it’s one ship on the Mole at a time.”

Winnant was flabbergasted. “The battle’s here, what’re they saving them for?”

“The next battle. The one for Britain. Same with the planes.”

“But it’s right there! You can practically se—”

“Seeing home doesn’t help us get there, Captain.”

Colonel Winnant rotated around, seeing the flaming town; black smoke getting thicker and crowding the air with its charring smell. “They need to send more ships, dammit! Every hour the enemy pushes closer.”

“They’ve activated the small vessels pool—”

“Vessels pool?” He was confused by the remark, not understanding what it had meant.

Commander Bolton explains. “The list of civilian boats for requisition—”

“Civilian?” He gapes. “We need destroyers.”

“Small boats could load from the beach.”

Colonel Winnant spots men struggling to load in the surf, motioning over at them in order for Bolton to see. “Not in these conditions.”

The Commander takes in the scene, confirming his personal belief. “I’d rather face waves than dive bombers.”

The Highlanders approach the blue Trawler that was titled towards them cautiously, noticing how the beach was deserted asides from disabled army vehicles and dead bodies. The soldiers circle the hull, checking it and seen that it was sound enough. The Highlanders they climb up onto

the abandoned trawler, helping one another out.

Alex helps Luna up first, making sure she was squared away and safe first before his own self, though, it went against his platoon beliefs. He scopes out the boat, speaking to the one soldier from before. “Where’s the crew?”

“Probably got spooked after they ran aground. Scarpered up the beach.”

“Why?”

“We’re outside the perimeter. Enemy could be right there—” he points at the dunes, Tommy looking directly over and felt himself leaning closer towards Leigh who was on his left. “Best shut ourselves inside and wait for the high tide.”

The Highlanders begin heading down the companionway into the small hold, grouping together. Alex leads Luna down carefully before turning back to ask, “How long’s that?”

“Every three hours.”

Gibson gets up on the boat, lending a hand down for Tommy and he grabs it, stepping up onto the top. Tommy gazes down at Leigh, lending out his arm for her to grab tenderly. She takes it delicately into hers, hand slipping over his palm, her fingers curling around his wrist. He does the same, hoisting her up. They, with Gibson, descend into the hold, shutting the door behind them and settle down in for waiting.

Luna was settled in next to Alex where Leigh was next to Tommy by the ladder with Gibson across from them. Leigh readjusted her hair into the back of her jacket and shirt, tipping her helmet off of the side in order to rest her head on Tommy’s shoulder since she was still tired. He allowed her to do so, not minding since he understood how tolling this whole experience was. She closed her eyes, drifting off without another thought and Tommy relaxed his head back against the wall.

Alex noticed Tommy and Leigh then Gibson who had been quiet for a long time, starting to get his suspicions but they quickly melted away once he caught sight of Luna tugging on her dog tags. He sees her name finally, cooing. “Luna?”

She ganders to him, her tags then back at him. “Yeah.” Luna nods, speaking in a murmur so she wouldn’t be heard by the other men. “My mother named me after the moon.”

“I think I know why.”

She furrows her brow in wonder. “Why?”

“Because your smile is dazzling.” She blushes again, her cheeks red and she looks away for a moment, trying to collect her composure. Alex nudges her playfully. “No need to look away, you’re remarkable.”

A few more minutes passed, making Alex bored of waiting so to improvise his spending time, he stands in the dimly lit hold that had rays of light coming in from small, dirty portholes. His feet step over and around the soldiers that lied about either sleeping or chatting, trying to scrounge for something useful but doesn’t find anything.

With a sigh, Alex gazes over to Gibson. “Poke your head out, see if the water comes in.” Gibson wanders his gaze up at the ladder and top hatch, shaking his head as he pulled his arms tight around himself. Alex glares, lifting up a metal box to search in. “Talkative sod.”

Tommy eyes the hold, seeing all the soldiers keeping still and begins to move which awakes Leigh and she sorts herself out, yawning. He gets to the ladder, climbing up to the hatch, peeking over the rail. Tommy notices how the tide did come up, the boat being in inches of water. “Bugger.” He gets back down, looking to Alex. “Barely come in at all.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Alex remarks, tossing the metal box back where he found it, making loud noise.

“Calm down.” The one Highlander speaks. “What goes out comes back in, right?”

“Yeah, but how long?” He snaps.

Silence followed, none of the soldiers answering and Luna suggests for Alex to sit back down and take a long deserved nap. He tells her that he shouldn’t take one but she insists, wanting him to save up his energy and not blow it all at once. Alex listens, doing as told while Tommy crouches back to where he was resting, Leigh leaning back on his shoulder. He rested his cheek on the top of her helmet, closing his eyes for a moment or two while they waited.

The minute turned into an hour, and by this time, all the men were nodding off and catching up on sleep. Luna and Leigh both passed out as well. The first person to awake was Tommy, being startled as he heard footsteps coming above on deck. Others began waking, grabbing for their guns, and telling everyone to be quiet as the steps got louder. The one Highlander aims his rifle, moving up in front and nods to Tommy to step up and get ready to grab the person who was aboard. He shakes his head but the Highlander is persistent, urging him on and Tommy gets ready.

Up above, they watch as the person began stepping down backwards and Tommy grabs him from behind, yanking him back and the other men follow, holding back his arms and legs so he couldn’t squirm or reach for any weapons that he had on him. Alex leans over the man and the Seaman looks uncomprehendingly up, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. “Are you German?!”

“Dutch! Dutch!” He replies shakily, holding up his hands to show that he meant no harm. “Merchant navy. Here to pick you up. To help you.”

“Why’d you leave your boat?”

“In case German come.” After mentioning it, Leigh glances back up the ladder, checking to see if there was any more men coming. “We wait up the beach with the soldiers. Wait for the tide.”

One of the Highlanders that was pointing his gun down at the man spoke. “You came back, the tide must be in.”

The seaman nods. “Coming, yes. But more hours till we float.”

Alex then peers down at him again. “Hours?!” The man nods. “Why’d you come back?”

The Seaman gestures around the packet hold. “Not so heavy when I left!”

It’s quiet after he speaks, everyone taking in what he had just said before a gunshot was fired, penetrating the hull. Everybody jerks, flying downwards to lie flat while Tommy and Leigh just stare at the bullet hole, seeing how light was filtering in. Alex had covered Luna with his body, his face red and filled with worry. Carefully he rolls off, getting besides her and moves his head back for his widened eyes to land on Tommy and Leigh, seeing how they were still sitting on their knees; eyes locked in on the bullet hole.

Out from the corner of Tommy’s one eye, he noticed how Leigh began counting on her fingers, he mentally counts with her. _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight . . ._ Another bullet files in and everyone goes back to sheltering themselves by covering their heads. Tommy lowers his, eyes still over on the spot that was being spot at. Alex wrapped his arms around Luna, placing his body back on top of hers, protecting her in case of a ricochet. His hands shook, him becoming a jittery mess since they all were basically fish in a barrel at this point.

Leigh goes back to counting. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight—another gunshot hits the hull, landing above the previous shots.

Once it settles, the men begin standing and loading up their guns, cocking them. Leigh, just like Tommy, already knew what they were doing on the inside but Leigh didn’t dare to speak so Tommy did it instead. “No! Then they’ll know we’re in here.”

The one man eyes him. “Why else are they shooting at us?!” He loudly whispers.

“Look at the grouping . .” He states and they all eye the three bullet holes, seeing how close together they were. “Target practice.” This time, Leigh covers her ears and as soon as she did, a fourth shot was taken. The men hunker yet again, keeping quiet as the time passed.

Leigh lowers her hands, focusing on the four holes for a short time before she witnessed water spilling in from the outside. The rest of the men began hearing the trickle, peering over to see how fast the bottom was filling. One man got up gently, trying to crawl over and grabbed a small rag to try and stick in the holes. Leigh recovered her arms, holding them tight and watched as another bullet came flying in, hitting the man right in his side which caused him to scream out in pain. Two other soldiers head over to him, trying to hush him up as another bullet fired, making another hole. There was now six in total, and the water kept on coming in.

Alex moved up with Luna, seeing how they desperately needed to block the water from entering. “We have to plug it!” He whispers loudly.

“After you, mate!” Another remarks, scared.

Then there was rapid fire from the outside. Six to about twelve bullets all hit the side of the boat before it came to a sudden stop. No one else moves; no one even dares. They just all piled in the back near the ladder, straying away from where the bullets were being entered in at.

Alex stands tall, seeing how the Trawler began leveling itself out, meaning that the tide was getting bigger and they were moving in the water. He eyes the Dutch Seaman. “How do we get off?! Do we need to ditch some ballast?!” The man just looks at him, not comprehending what he was saying. “Weight!” Alex clarifies. “Do we need to lose weight!”

The Dutch Seaman nodding. “Weight, yes.”

Alex then eyes every onboard. “Somebody needs to get off.”

“Well volunteered.” A Highlander pipes up.

“We don’t need a volunteer. I know someone who ought to get off . . . This one.” Alex grumbles, pointing to Gibson who was leaning on the ladder next to Leigh. “He’s a German spy.”

Tommy eyes Alex. “Don’t be daft.”

“He’s fuckin’ Jerry. You might not’ve noticed that he hasn’t said a word, but I have. He doesn’t speak English—or if he does it’s with an accent thicker than sauerkraut sauce!”

Tommy huffs, shaking his head; not believing that Alex was being irrational. “You’re daft. Tell him.” He then looks to Gibson, Leigh does too.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, grabbing for the one Highlander’s gun and points it directly at Gibson. “Tell me.”

“Alex,” Luna murmurs from behind him, making sure that only he could hear her. “He’s not the enemy. Okay, the real enemy is out there. Shootin’ at us while we’re stuck in here.”

“Lu, you seen how he wasn’t down in that Destroyer with us. He was up on deck, probably callin’ the Germans to tell where our ship was and gave them them the go on hittin’ us with a bloody torpedo.” Alex moves to Gibson, still pointing the rifle, hooks the barrel on his tags, pulling them closer to read. “Tell me . . . Gibson.”

The other soldiers gather, watching, waiting while the boat kept on filling up more and more as the seconds ticked away.   
“Tell me!” Alex snaps.

Tommy begins to panic from the older boy keeping quiet. “Tell him, for God’s sake!” He begs.

Alex pushes the rifle closer to Gibson, having him crack from being under the pressure. “FRANÇAIS! JE SUIS FRANÇAIS!”

Tommy stares, shocked. Alex moves back slightly, taking this in. “A Frog.” He glances over his shoulder at Luna and the other men. “A bloody Frog. A cowardly little queue-jumping Frog.” He then personally grabs the tags of  ‘Gibson’, shaking them violently. “Who’s Gibson, eh? A naked dead Englishman lying out on that sand. Or did you at least have the decency to bury him?”

Tommy nods. “He did. I helped him. I thought it was his mate.”

Alex hands the rifle back to the other man off to his left. “Maybe he killed him—”

“He didn’t kill him—”

“How do we know?!” Alex shouts.

Tommy gives him a deadpan expression. “How hard is it to find a dead Englishman on Dunkirk beach, for God’s sake?! He didn’t kill anyone—he was looking for a way off the damned sand like the rest of us!”

Another round of gunfire starts, everyone jolting at the sound and sorting themselves after once it passes and all is silent again. “Hadn’t they had enough practice by now?!” A Highlander grapes.

“They’re making sure she won’t float.” One answers.

The first Highlander looks at the holes spraying water, seeing how it was pooling in the bottom of the hold. He turns to the Seaman. “Will she still float?!”

He begins assessing the leaks, nodding. “Float, yes. With less weight, yes.”

“And we know who’s getting off.” Alex peers back at ‘Gibson’. Leigh frowned, not understanding why Alex was being so harsh though he saved their lives repeatedly.

Tommy shakes his head. “You can’t do that. He’s French. He’s on our side.”

Alex then makes way back up again, grabbing the collar of the Frenchman and nudged him towards the ladder where Leigh still stood. “Go on, up you go—”

Leigh tears Alex’s hand away from him and Tommy gets in between, separating them. “As soon as he pokes his head out they’ll slaughter him.”

“Alex, he’s right.” Luna agrees quietly.

“Better him than me . .” He defends, eyes shifting from her to Tommy.

“It’s not fair.” Tommy says gently, hoping that he’d realize that.

Alex gives him a look of disbelief. “Survival’s not fair.”

“No, it’s shit.” The one Highlander speaks, aiming his gun at ‘Gibson’, his face covered in sweat. “It’s fear and greed. Fate squeezed through the bowels of men.”

“He saved our lives.”

“And he’s about to do it again.” A soldier bolts forwards, grabbing at him and yet again, Tommy and Leigh tear the man’s hands away.

“No! Stop!” Tommy hollers.

This time, Alex grabs at him, taking him off to the side. “We need someone to get off so the rest of us can live. Do you want to volunteer?”

“Fuck no.” Tommy whimpered and Leigh heard it, heart falling into her stomach. “I’m going home.”

Alex looks from him, to ‘Gibson’ then back. “And if this is the price?”

Tommy gazes over, seeing how Leigh stood with the Frenchman, defending him; looking very estranged. He nods. “I’ll live with it.” A pause. “It’s wrong.” He then adds, referring to the fact of casting out another soldier who was in need of help like them. “One man’s not going to make enough difference—”

“You’d best hope it does, cos you’d be volunteering next.” The Highlander with the rifle spoke.

“What?” Tommy’s eyes searched his face, hoping that he was joking and faced Alex. It was then in that moment that he knew that they weren’t.

Alex references to the Highlander. “We’re regimental brothers, mate. Just the way it is.”

Tommy couldn’t even be angry with him. The Regiment had their opinions on war. They believed country before humanity and failing; regiment before humanity as well.

“I’ll go! I’ll do it!” A husked feminine voice announces and all the men snapped attentions to Leigh. With bravery, and slight anger, she takes off her helmet, tossing it into the water that was now up to her waist. She then slips her hand behind her neck, pulling outwards so all of her hair came out from hiding in her shirt. There, the men could finally see that she was a woman.

“A bloody woman? In war?” The one shook his head in disgust. “No woman belongs here.”

“I’m apart of Home Guard.” She stated, moving back her jacket to show the badge on her shirt. “I have every right to be here.”

“A civilian woman who knows how to shoot? Such _wonderful_ news.” One of the others remarks sarcastically.

Tommy eyed the girl, and it all made sense. Home Guard was an armed civilian militia that was supporting the English Army with this war against the Germans. They took in volunteers who wanted to join, training them in camps and then supplied them with a uniform and a weapon. They were then sent off, in battle to help the army fight in any way that they could. That’s why Leigh kept close by the door in the Destroyer, was smart to count the shots after each one that happened to see how far apart they were spread out. Covering her ears to try save her drums from ringing and bursting; everything she did that Tommy just thought was her personality was out of instinct from her training.

One of the men instantly gave her a slap across the face, and Tommy was stunned, barely not moving from his spot as she cupped her cheek and sneered at the man. “I was trained.” Leigh barks back. “Just like you and your men. I wanted to help this battle. You can judge me for being a girl if it makes you feel any better about your broken egos, but you can’t ridicule for wanting to put my life on the line to try and help out.”

“Leigh,” Luna then says out loud, taking off her helmet to expose herself to the men as well. “You can’t do this. You promised you’d take me back.”

“And I am, by doing this.” She eyed her friend dearly, frowning. “You have a life to get back to—a family. Parent, a sibling. I don’t have that waiting for me. That’s why I joined the Home Guard in the first place. You deserve to get home, all of you do. Including him.” Leigh then referred to ‘Gibson’. “We’re all scared, terrified . . . beginning to turn on one another because we’re in a leaking, sinking ship and instead of focusing on that, trying to work together, we’re doing the complete opposite. So if me, going out there helps with you guys getting home . . . Then I’ll do it.”

Suddenly, Alex felt guilty, gently placing a hand on Luna’s shoulder to hold her back. There was nothing left to do except watch the girl go and leave the hull to save their lives.

One step, two steps, three. Leigh climbed until Tommy couldn’t bear it. “No!” He shouts, grabbing the back of her jacket, pulling her directly back down and all the men began yelling, bickering, fighting. The machine gun from outside pumbles the wall, riddling it with bullets and they all clash down into the water. From doing so, the ship levels, drifting off and they could feel them bobbing around.

The Dutch Seaman lifts his head, gasping. “FLOAT! WE FLOAT!”

“START THE BLOODY ENGINE!” One of Highlanders orders of him, seeing how he was already crawling out the hatch, reaching up. The engine starts, loud as it could can be while the machine gun fire strafes the hull once again. The men and girls ducking below the waterline, holding their breaths as the screw is thrown into reverse, full throttle.

Luna comes up, spotting Alex who had been hit in the head, bleeding and she treks through the water while crouching, checking him to see if he was alright. The thing was, it wasn’t his blood. He wasn’t injured at all. The blood had came from somewhere else but where? And from whom?

The Dutch Seaman turns the wheel, jumps back onto the floor of the well as more bullets impact the cabin. He throws the engine into forward gear, turns to Alex. “Plug the holes!”

Alex rubs the blood off from his head, nodding in understanding. Wafting on over to the one side of the hull, he tells the men the same thing, beginning to block the holes with his hands. The men stuff rags, bolts, fingers, anything they can lay hands on to plug as many holes as possible.

Leigh surfaces, coughing and Tommy does as well, seeing how everyone was contributing to trying to make the boat sail and they helped out as well.

On one of the many civilian boats, there was Mr. Dawson, his son Peter with a Shivering Soldier, and a pilot named Collins they had rescued from the water. They were sailing on the ship called Moonstone; a small thing but it was enough. Up ahead, being bombed by a Heinkel, there was a Destroyer. The Shivering Soldier retreats into himself, peering over to witness the ship going up in black smoke. Peter runs up to the bow, spotting a blue fishing Trawler a quarter of a mile off, sinking.

He points it out to Mr. Dawson. “Dad, there’s men in the water!” Mr. Dawson looks ahead to where Peter is pointing, putting the throttle forward, heading straight into the fray.

Collins spots Spitfire arcing around, trying to get a bead on the Heinkel and he knew that it was his friend. “Come on, Farrier . . .” He utters in hope, seeing how Farrier spins around to get after the Heinkel.

The Moonstone comes up on the men that was swimming in the water. Peter and Collins both heading over to the side, helping to fish men out. In doing this, Collins noticed the black goop that was resting in the water and marked the men.

“Oil.” He mutters are feeling the slick liquid on one of the men, turning to face Mr. Dawson. “We’re getting into oil!”

The boat comes to a halt, Peter and Collins both continuing to fish men out of the water. Everyone single one of them was covered in oil, anonymous in their glossy black filth but of course, that wasn’t the issue at hand. Staying alive was.

Back on the Trawler, the Dutch Seaman noticed how the water sloshed onto the deck, the boat going down and yells, “Abandon ship!” A few of the soldiers, holding back the water, cannot hear him but one by one, they start to abandon the task since they knew that it was no use.

More and more water kept pouring in and Tommy nudges Leigh, letting her know that they needed to leave and she followed after. The both of them get up and out from below, standing on deck and spot the Keith Destroyer, about a quarter of a mile away. With exchanging looks, they both dive into the water, pulling away from the swamped Trawler.

Still down in the hull, Luna, Alex, and ‘Gibson’ were there, alone. Luna was the first to gaze around, noticing that they were alone. “Alex! They’re gone!” She frowns.

He ganders around, too. “It’s time to leave. Alright! Go, go!” He urges her on and she follows, swimming to the ladder. Alex then grabs ‘Gibson’ by the shoulder, warning him that they had to go and went then for the exit; crawling out just in time with Luna and heading out towards the Moonstone since it seemed to be closer than the Keith.

‘Gibson’ dives for the exit and once he was about to reach the ladder, he was blasted back by water, being dragged down with the sinking trawler. He struggled, moving his arms fast but it wasn’t a match for the current. He finally breathed in the water, letting it fill his lungs.

At the Moonstone, Peter, Collins and the Shivering Soldier pull more oily men from the water, the decks of the yacht rapidly filling. Mr. Dawson looks at the oil slick, concerned. He then addresses the oily survivors to head down below deck to make more room for others. One of the men, shook his head, replying with, “No fear.”

“We need to get as many of you on board as we can before the oil catches fire. Get below or get off my boat. Your choice.” He remarks simply and the boy gets up, heading down below.

Collins reaches to a boy, who was Alex, yanking him up and Peter then stops Luna, him gasping. “Luna?!” He yells, a small smile on his face. “Luna!”

“Peter?” She lifts her head, seeing him in his red sweater, lending a hand down to her. Her oil covered hand grabs his and she’s lifted up in, giving him a hug. “I missed you so much!”

“What were you bloody thinkin?” Peter retorts breathless, hugging her tight then pulling away. “Runnin’ off, joining Home Guard, scarin’ Dad and I like that!”

Luna frowned, her bottom lip quivering. “Leigh . . . She . . She joined and I didn’t want her to go in alone.”

Peter went wide eyed. “Leigh’s out here, too?”

That’s right when Luna felt her chest ache. “Leigh’s not on the boat?” She then gulped, turning to eye the Destroyer in the off distance, Alex and Peter following gaze. “Oh no.”

Tommy and Leigh were working their arms, paddling through the water towards the Keith, seeing how soldiers were trying to climb up the mesh net on the side. Leigh suddenly stopped, gazing up above in the sky as she seen the Heinkel coming in over the Keith, about to drop bombs and grabbed onto Tommy’s hand, making him stop and dunk down under the waterline. She swims close to him, sheltering his ears and prepared. He was confused as to what she was doing but then, it was answered when he still managed to hear the cracking explosion throughout the water. Bombs were being dropped and they were deafening but muffled from Leigh holding his ears for protection; he only imagined how it sounded for hers. He lifts his hands up as well, cradling her ears into his palms. They both stayed under as three more went off, then make break for the surface.

The barrage was over and the Keith was still afloat. Tommy nods for them to continue on swimming and they do, getting closer to it. In the progress, Tommy glances down at his arms, realizing that him and her were swimming in oil. He turns his head back, seeing the black sludge covering Leigh’s hair, arms, forehead, and cheeks. Tommy goes back around, making it for the Keith, even as he sees men jumping into the water from her decks, lifeboats being lowered in the water.

“Leigh!” She stops in her swimming, turning to see a yacht called the Moonstone traveling over, Luna leaning over the side with a boy whom she recognized as her older brother, Peter. “Leigh!” She screams out desperately, scanning the water.

“Tommy!” Leigh motions at the yacht and he pauses, knowing that reaching and making it to the boat was a better chance than the Destroyer who was beginning to tip on her side from the bombings. He listens to her, knowing that she known more than him and he goes first with her following after.

“He’s coming back around!” A soldier screams and everyone looks up and over, seeing how the Heinkel was making way back towards the capsized Destroyer. Soldiers began jumping off, getting back into the oiled water and swimming for oncoming civilian boats to try and be rescued.

On the Moonstone, Collins watches as Farrier in the Spitfire banks hard to get behind the Heinkel. A 109 zips across his path, guns blazing but Farrier pulls up to keep the bomber in his sights as he fires his cannons. He lands a direct hit, the Heinkel spitting white greyed smoke from its one wing, beginning to fall.

Collins eyes the water then turns to Mr. Dawson, nodding to the older man. “Go! Go, go!” He warns desperately. Peter gently pushes Luna back with Alex, telling them to go down in the hull with the other soldiers and she doesn’t let up. She starts arguing but Alex calms her down, taking her under because there was nothing else that could be done. This was still purely survival and if they weren’t going to get out of the oil soon, they’ll be on fire.

On the side of the boat, Peter eyes two soldiers swimming near, slicked in oil. The one up in front grabs onto Peter’s wrist and reaches back for the other person’s wrist, creating a chain link just as the Heinkel falls in a glory blaze. Mr. Dawson throws the engine into gear, turning the wheel and the two soldiers were being tugged through the water, holding their breaths.

Fire spreads out, engulfing the men that were trying to swim while others ducked under the surface to try and escape the cruel fate. They screamed and shouted at the Moonstone for leaving them behind but then, they couldn’t be too much upset. They knew what it would have meant if they stayed. Collins watches, appalled, at the sight. He spots the Keith is going down with survivors on the far side, being picked up by the other various small civilian ships.

Once out in clean water, Collins joins in next to Peter, grabbing on the hand of the one soldier in back to help them up in. The two popped their heads out of the water, gasping for air and opening their eyes, wiping their faces with their free hands. Peter had a hold of Tommy and Collins had Leigh.

The men both pick up the two, pulling them over and they flop on the deck, on their backs, exhausted. They pant heavily, trying to calm themselves down, and very sheepishly, Tommy whispers, “Take us home.”

“That we are.” Peter replies gently to him before wandering his gaze to see Leigh. He smiled gently, knowing that his little sister would be happy that she was saved.

After a few minutes of building up strength, Tommy and Leigh got up and Peter handed them orange life vests to wear. They put them on and Peter directs them to head down in the hull. Tommy went down first, Leigh following but not before she thanked Peter and Mr. Dawson for them coming to the rescue. When Alex seen Tommy, he tried to avoid eye contact, knowing that ‘Gibson’ didn’t make it out alive like how they had. He just held Luna’s hand tight, gently placing a kiss on top and kept her close to him as a security blanket. None of them would never be the same, that was the ultimate price with war. It’s not losing your life, it’s losing a part of yourself; a part of your humanity.

Tommy sits up and Leigh’s next to him, everyone in the hold quiet, packed like sardines but there was no compliant. They were all safe now. Leigh spots Luna right besides Alex, smiling to her tenderly and Luna gives her a nod.

The Moonstone traveled along the waves, low in the water from the weight but they still pressed forwards. Collins was keeping his head to the skies, noticing a plane and went to retreat Mr. Dawson who was at the helm. “That’s a fighter.” He points it out.

The man nods. “ME 109, from the South. Peter, take the wheel, listen for my instructions.” Peter does as told, going to the helm as Mr. Dawson steps up onto the seat to look above the roof of

the cabin. “Point her south.” Peter does so, the Moonstone swings to port, straightening out.

Under the deck, the soldiers heard the far off engine of a plane, all sitting up and peering out from below deck’s windows. Alex held onto Luna’s hand tighter, bracing himself just in case danger was among them.

Mr. Dawson stares at the approaching 109. “Full speed ahead.” Peter throttles up, the 109 is growing close now. “Get ready to pull hard to port . . . before he fires he’ll have to lower his nose, I’ll give you the signal.” Peter reaches over to the side of the wheel, ready to throw it.

The 109 was approaching closer, Peter getting anxious, him darting back forth between the plane and his father. “Now?”   
“Wait for it! Tait till he’s committed to his line.” He studies for a moment longer, seeing the nose of the 109 dipping downwards. “NOW!” Peter throws the wheel, the Moonstone lurching to port and the guns of the 109 light up, strafing the water to starboard as the soldiers covered themselves.

The 109 flashes over, continuing on its way to Dunkirk, Collins watching it. “He’s off.”

“Bigger fish to fry.” Mr. Dawson remarks.

Curiously, Collins eyes him. “How’d you know all that, anyway?”

Mr. Dawson doesn’t respond right away, he just steps onto the deck. “My son’s one of you lot. I knew he’d see us through.” He moves forwards, going back in the cabin at the wheel.

Collins steps up beside Peter. “You’re RAF?”

He shakes his head. “Not me. My brother. Flew Hawker Hurricanes. He died third week into the war.” Collins then looks forward at the proud father standing by the mast.

It had been about three hours, the sun was settling, casting a golden glow through the deck windows and Leigh noticed the cliffs from outside. Hurriedly, she got up, rushing for the companionway and Luna already knew what she was doing. She followed and Alex and Tommy did as well, being attached to the young women that they got to know in an intimate amount of time.

Peter was at the wheel, watching as Leigh popped herself up, wiping off her forehead and peered out with Luna right besides her. While the boys tried to move, Peter gently stopped them. “Stay below, please.”

“They’re with us, Pete.” Luna remarks to her brother, and backs away so Tommy was able to look out with Leigh. “They just wanted to see the cliffs.”

Tommy looks over at white cliffs that were ghostly above the dark water. “Dover?” He questions.

Peter shakes his head, amused. “Weymouth.”

Alex then sadly huffed, looking to Peter. “We let you all down, didn’t we?” Peter just held the stare, almost shocked that this exhausted, ragged boy his own age thought that he’d let the country down by retreating. Luna snaked her hand into his, giving it a loving squeeze to try and cheer him up.

Another hour had gone, the night came and the yacht docked which meant leaving to go on the train. Soldier after soldier climbs out of the yacht, the Corporal that was handing out travel chits marvels at the absurd amount. He grins at Mr. Dawson. “How many you got in there?”

Tommy, Leigh, Luna, and Alex stick together as they are handed hot cups of tea and shepherded out of the harbour in long lines. Luna spots her father, giving him a hug and whispers something to him that the three others couldn’t hear. He nods, giving the top of her a kiss, and wished her luck on the safety of travels.

Leigh lightly scoffed, playfully. “He’s allowing you to go? Even after headin’ off?”

“He said Peter’s coming with, to help on the train. So I’ll know my way back home.” Luna nods. “And what about you? What are you going to do?”

She shrugs. “I got nowhere to go. No name to my face . . . The best I have is traveling on the train until I find some place to take me in.”

They all continued forwards on the train tracks, being downcast and herded, sipping on their tea, and grabbing small pieces of jammed toast. Leigh felt weary about it considering the last time that they all did, they were struck with a torpedo but this was land, not an ocean. It gave some comfort, but not a lot. She slowly nibbled on her bread, watching Alex and Luna as they walked in front, seeing them passing by an older gentleman who was staring down at blankets. He had his hands resting out on them, picking each one up and handing them out to the men.

Alex went past with Luna, both of them receiving their blankets. “Well done, lads.” The one states.

“All we did is survive.” Alex says, seeing how the man wasn’t glancing up at him, nor Luna.

“That’s enough.” He responds and Luna gently presses on his back, the two of them moving on to load up. Tommy and Leigh then headed up, Tommy eyeing him and the man lifts his hand, touching his face softly. He then lingers over to Leigh’s, feeling hers and she allows it. His fingers find her hair, running down the long length then releases. “Well, done, _soldiers_.”

Leigh felt her nose pinch, eyes heavy with tears because she finally felt respect from a person who didn’t treat her anything less than what a man was. She had her whole life, but in that moment, she was an equal. She gets her blanket from the man and Tommy is given his, them both going for the train just like how Alex and Luna did.

Roaming through the carts of the train, Tommy leading the way, he finally found Alex and Luna sitting in a spot. He enters first, sitting by the window and Leigh gets down besides him. Exhausted and wanting to catch up on sleep, Tommy bundled up his blanket against the headrest and lounged out his legs across Leigh’s lap with her permission. She yawned and Tommy motioned for her to rest her head in his lap, letting her that she could if she wanted. She instantly took up on the offer, nodding and used her blanket as a pillow as well; bundling it up and rest it in his lap while Alex spoke up, tears coming from his eyes.

“That old bloke wouldn’t even look us in the eye.” He sniffles, turning to see Leigh and Tommy already cuddled up, drifting off into a long, proper overdued sleep.

Leigh weakly opens her one eye, seeing Alex and mumbled, “He was blind.” Alex then felt relief but then shame, looking down at the table and took a sip of his tea while he grabbed Luna’s hand with his right.

Leigh softly grinned at her friend then closed her eyes, going back into a peaceful slumber; knowing that she didn’t have to awake in an urgency in the morning.

 

Sunlight was flickering on Tommy’s eyelids, it makes him awake to peer out the window that was on the other side of the train. There was a grassy hill with trees and it looked so beautiful, so spectacular that he double blinked to make sure that he was seeing it properly. His hazy green eyes looked over at the other seat, seeing how Alex had his blanket resting on his shoulder and against the window, sleeping. Luna was then resting her head on his shoulder, covered up in her blanket for warmth since it got chilly during the night.

There was movement in his lap and he remembers that Leigh was down there, snoozing away. His stare drops down, seeing how peaceful she looked, how beautiful. She was safe, sound, out of harm’s way and because of that, she was able to dream without problem. Absentmindedly, Tommy’s fingers brush back through her hair, moving it away and out of her face. From this, she stirs, nuzzling her face into the blanket and slowly blinks awake. Her hazel eyes gaze up into his and he gulps.

“S . . Sorry. I didn’t mean to . .”

“It’s fine.” She yawns, turning on her back and closed her eyes again for a moment. “Probably about time to get up anyways.”

Tommy grows back to being silent, until the thought that was whirling around in his mind came to light. “Would you . . like to stay with me? I don’t have much at home, mostly just a bedsit but it is a place where you could . . You could stay, I mean . .”

“I’d be delighted, Tommy.” She smiles, picking up her one hand and fixed his messy bangs that hung in front of his eyes and forehead.

The train full of soldiers rolls to a halt, making Alex and Luna wake up, glancing out of the window to see young boys standing by a pile of newspapers, playing. Alex stands, opening the window. “Hey! Where are we?!”

“Siding. You’ll put in in a minute—”

“What station?” He corrects.

The boy was shocked by his question. “Woking.”

Alex’s eyes drift to the stacks of newspapers that still needed to be loaded up. “Grab me one of them papers.” The small boy hesitates, still looking up at him. “Go on!” The boy goes, pulling one off the top and hurries to the side of the train car, stretching his arm up to him. Alex grabs it, sitting back down and reads the headline that said **CHURCHILL ADDRESSES DUNKIRK EVACUATION IN COMMONS** _._ He thrusts the paper towards Tommy and Leigh. “I can’t bear it. You read it.”

“Can’t bear it?” Tommy knits his brows and Leigh sits herself up from Tommy’s lap, reaching for the paper to look.

“They’ll be spitting at us in the streets. If they’re not locked up waiting for the invasion.” Alex frowns and Luna rests her head back on Alex’s shoulder, rubbing his arm to calm him down, to let him know that everything was going to be okay. She even pecked his dirty cheek.

Tommy holds on the one side of the paper while Leigh held the other, he began reading poorly. “‘Wars are not won by evacuations’.” Alex shakes his head at this as the train started to pull into the station, the platform crowded with civilians.

Alex slinks down in his seat, turning away from the window and focused on Luna as a man began knocking on the window. “Alex . .” Luna whispers to him.

“I can’t look,”

Leigh eyed outside, seeing the people were clapping for their safe arrival and her eyes find the next sentence that Tommy was about to read, reading out loud herself. “‘But there was a victory inside this deliverance which should be noted’.”

Alex lifts his head at her words, looking back out the window to see the man grinning, holding up two beer bottles and women that was behind him with sandwiches and drinks; all of them rushing up to the windows. Alex reaches up from the window that he cracked, grabbing the bottles and sits one out for Tommy while he took the other and drank. He then offer someone to Luna she thanks him, taking a small swig.

Tommy continued for the rest of the paper. “‘Our thankfulness at the escape of our army must not blind us to the fact that what has happened in France is a colossal military disaster and we must expect another blow to be struck almost immediately’ . . .”

This time Luna stands as a man from one of the many newspapers notices her being in uniform, asking questions about her time in the service and if she snuck in to help with the war or if she was actually ranked in. She smiles, answering a few of the questions before grabbing some sandwiches for her and the three others. She hands them out, Leigh taking hers and opening it, and taking a bite for her to realize it was tuna fish. She genuinely smiled, gazing up at Alex and Luna who were just hanging out the window, taking in the glory and praise. They wanted to feel loved, and there was nothing wrong with that.  

“We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France. We shall fight on the seas and oceans. We shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air’.” Tommy kept on reading. “‘We shall defend our island’—”

“What?!” Alex asks in glee over the crowd and their cheering, not being able to hear Tommy read.

He continues again, speaking louder over the celebration. “‘We shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be—we shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds. We shall fight in the fields and the streets. “We shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender. And even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this island . . . were subjugated and starving then our empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British fleet, would carry on the struggle. Until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old’.”

Tommy then drops the newspaper, peering up at Alex and Luna sadly before dropping gaze. Leigh noticed his look, he was mentally asking himself if what they went through was actually worth everything they experienced and she understood that feeling. She had it herself a few days before until . . .   
Her hand places itself in his, fingers intertwining and her palm huddled against his. He then looks to her for a moment and she gave him her smile, one that promised that the world would be kinder to them in time. The corners of Tommy’s lips curl up, making him give a small smile. Leigh moved in closer to him, offering him a bite of her sandwich and he accepted.

Maybe Churchill would be correct about the New World. Maybe, after all, it’ll be greater.


	3. EPILOGUE

**THE NEW WORLD OF AUGUST 1945**

 

Tommy was setting the dining table with plates when he felt two pairs of arms wrap around each one of his legs then tiny butts sitting on top of his socked feet. He smiled, peering down at his two children. Lucy, who was four and Elliot, who was two but turning three in a few months time.

“You buggers, best be off soon. Gettin’ ready for dinner for when Auntie Luna and Uncle Alex comes.” 

“We can always wash up later.” Lucy beckons, giggling and hugged his leg tighter. “We just wanted to show how much we love you.” 

“I love you guys, too.” 

Leigh wandered out in her overall slacks, hair pulled back into a ponytail and smiled as she seen her kids and husband. “Lucy, Elliot, Daddy has to get things ready.” She laughs. “Unless you’d like to offer help with getting ready.” 

Lucy grins. “Bye, Daddy!” She gets off of him, running away while Elliot got himself up and held out his chubby little fingers to help out. Tommy ruffles his brown curls, whispering for him to go grab the napkins out on the lounge and he trots off. 

Tommy watches him go, completely taken back by the fact that five years ago, he was a soldier in Dunkirk and managed to come across Leigh in his evacuation. She tenderly steps over him, making sure that he seen her movements before walking into his arms. He holds her tight, kissing the top of her head. 

“We’re lucky to have ‘em.” Leigh cooes. 

He nods. “Sure are.” 

“The past three months been wonderful to us, Tommy.” Her head lifts up, lips pecking his jaw before settling her face into the crook of his neck to warm her cold nose. 

The doorbell rings and Lucy answers it happily, seeing Luna with her baby bump and Alex standing besides her with a pie. She gives them each hugs, letting them in and Leigh sees her friend, going over and hugged her before complimenting how big she’s gotten since the last time they seen one another. Alex gives Tommy a grand hug, patting one another’s back and asking how each one of them was doing in their daily lives. 

Dinner was then served but not until Mr. Dawson and Peter showed up for a visit, gathering around the table and celebrating for their wonderful lives and no more war for England. Leigh served vegetable soup, all of them applauding her for the deliciousness of her cooking. Luna then began speaking about how she was going to become a teacher for Primary school while Alex tries out for being a mechanic. They had a son on the way, thinking of naming him after her brother who had died in war named Jeremy. Alex agreed to the name, also offering for his middle name to be George which Luna completely accepted without a second thought. 

Elliot, blessed his little heart, he then asks what his middle name from. He knew Lucy’s came from their Auntie Luna but his was still a mystery. His big doe eyes went back and forth between his mum and dad; Leigh and Tommy. Alex and Luna fell silent whereas Tommy cleared his throat, looking to his son. He eased in closer to the table, awaiting the answer. 

“Elliot, you’re middle name comes a brave man who was with your mum and I when we were in Dunkirk. He was a Frenchman, named Gibson. That’s who he was.” 

“He save you?” 

“A lot.” Tommy nods. “Wouldn’t of been possible to make it through it without him . . .” And like that, Elliot nods understandingly, not wanting to ask any more and continued on eating his dinner. 

War is a tricky thing, you see. One joins to save the country, to make home safe for others. You fight, fend, and try your best. Along the way, you meet friends and sometimes it’s in the most strangest places—places that you never even knew was possible until it happens. And when the enemy attacks, you go from here, to there, to over there, and you try your best because that’s all you can ever do. Try. It can be enough, most times it isn’t because you or someone in your group gets hurt and you can’t do anything about it because time is of the essence. It’s Fight or Flight. Even ten seconds can make the biggest of differences. 

War is not kind nor is it gentle. War is not a force but it’s most definitely not shallow. War is the balance of nature; what is created will always be destroyed. It’s just up to the people to put back together what’s been left behind, to make it into something far more incredible. 


End file.
